Friday, March 25, 2016

For a long time, it has been my dream to own a few hens –
like 3 or 4 max. Last week it came true when 25 baby chicks arrived in a box at
the post office early one morning. I rushed over like the deranged mother I’ve
become and rang the buzzer repeatedly until someone let me in the back door and
eventually brought a little box of peeping fluff. True, I only needed four, but I had this idea it
would be easy to get rid of extras via Craig’s List. So far eight have gone,
and today, on Good Friday, another seven will be picked up. That still leaves
five that need a home.

Setting up temporary digs in the basement wasn’t hard. An
appliance box lined with a plastic garbage bag and covered with shavings is
doing nicely. According to the website “MyPetChicken” the temp needed to be an
even 95 degrees for the first week. Testing before they arrived proved I needed
to adjust the height of the heat lamp to keep from broiling their little tushes
at 120 degrees. These girls are unavailable however tempting they look.

I’m mesmerized by their little chicken-y antics. From day
two they made clumsy efforts to scratch like big mamas do. When one finds
something interesting to peck at – an odd colored shaving, the rings on my
fingers – several run to investigate and steal it away if possible. They have
tiny primary feathers sprouting from their wings which they preen and flutter.
With breakneck runs they launch themselves one half inch above their neighbors
landing on heads with no regard for whether one is napping or drinking.

They are a mix of breeds and it is difficult to decide which
four to keep. So far I’ve decided on an Ameracauna that will lay the green or
blue eggs I’ve always marveled at, a Black Astraulorp, a Barred Rock and a Buff
Orpington. A friend identified them for me. I don’t know if I should trust her
or not – she has fainting goats and to her surprise two of her does dropped
three unexpected babies – one of the mothers had twins. Among the 25 chicks are
three unusual brown-egg layers –

Turken

Turkens. They have naked necks and are more
common in Europe than here. The lack of feathers makes them look like they need
a good moisturizer one their skinny little necks and a boost of vitamins, but they
are supposed to be calm, friendly and good egg layers, and if its any indication
these three readily run to my hand to see what I’m about. They have grown on
me.

Beauty is often linked to the visual and isn’t always an
advantage. Many ugly things, on inspection, reveal a depth of beauty that can
go unnoticed unless time is taken to listen and watch. John Fowles observes in The Collector that “a lot of nice things
are ugly and a lot of nasty things are beautiful.” This also being Good Friday
– I’ve always wondered what Jesus looked like – especially on his way to the
cross, since Isaiah described him as having no beauty or majesty that would
attract us to him, and yet, and yet, here we are 2000 years later where like
iron filings some of us still cling to the power of his love. So maybe I’ll
keep a Turken to remind me.

Book Sales

Hi Friends, Here is my Holiday (almost) Special!
God in the Sink $13.95 (includes shipping).
Order it for someone you love. Or someone you should love!
Thank you for helping launch this book. It wouldn't happen without you.
I would love to send a signed copy. Contact me at margiehaack@ gmail.com. online
Also available for $17.95 (includes shipping) The Exact Place: A Memoir
width:class="sqitem"href="https://squareup.com/market/margie-haack/god-in-the-sink">"God in the Sink" from Margie Haack

Toads Drink Coffee

Contributors

Coffee Favorite

Japanese Coffee art: "Kitty chasing fish latte."

Toads, etc.

For many years we lived in Toad Hall, an old American Gothic Foursquare house named for the mansion in Wind in the Willows although ours wasn’t really a mansion, the kids just thought it was. Now we live in a different home – one more suited to aging with dignity – yes, well, we can hope – The House Between. “Between” because we are living that stage of life between now and what is to come. Sound a little macabre? It’s not. We needed move to a space with main floor accessibility for older people who may not always be able to climb stairs to sleep and eliminate. We love this home in a quiet neighborhood with offices overooking the wooded ravine behind where we feed birds and watch coyotes play leap frog. We love knowing, too, that this is not our final place – there is more healing and goodness in the next life. I’ve kept the name of my blog toadsdrinkcoffee because I don’t know how to migrate to a new one. The name is now even more obscure, but it had to do with living in Toad Hall and my addiction to coffee. However, I did migrate my old publication – Notes From Toad Hall– to the new one Letters from the House Between.